Switch on the Train

In the run up to its launch Nintendo, understandably were keen to emphasise the portability of the Switch. Not just a home console, promotional videos always showed parties of people enjoying playing on planes, buses and even on rooftops. Recent surveys show an even split between players enjoying the Switch docked and in portable mode. However these people must be enjoying holding their console in the comfort of their own home as I’ve yet to see the console in public.

I travel a lot for work; each day involves 3 hours on public transport. I take trains, busses and I'm no stranger to the London Underground. However I seem to be the only one who uses a Switch on a journey. Others are playing games of course; they’re just not playing good games! ‘Candy Crush’ variants still seem to be the commuter game of choice which means my Switch, sat proudly on a stand in front of me, continues to raise eyebrows. For the most part the majority pretend to have not noticed; we’re terribly polite and British don’t you know. They hold their phones and open their books even if their eye-line suggests they’re mesmerised by what I’m doing. 

Occasionally however it seems inquiry about this wondrous piece of technology is irresistible. 

The End of the Car Boot Golden Age

When ever any collector of Retro Games is asked how to they build up their collection, they tend to always say "Car Boot Fairs". For those who don't know, theses are gatherings that are typically held on Sunday mornings. Originally, people with goods to sell would go to a field, open their boots and people would buy what they wanted from it. It has evolved over time, into a far more civilized gathering, with most sellers putting their goods on tables in front of their cars. As the summer progresses, the number of people at these events greatly increases, which means more sellers, more buyers and annoyingly more traders. These stalls are not there to shift their "old junk", they are instead trying to sell goods bought specifically for the car boot with profit in mind. 

However while these Car Boot Sales used to be regarded as the best place to get bargain games, now everyone seems to be a Retro Game valuer. eBay is used to determine price, often giving the false impression that anything old is worth a small fortune. To get anything, below the going rate on eBay, you need to get to the fair before the doors have even opened to the public and then you are racing the dreaded "re-seller". 

If you would like to know why re-selers divide the Retro Collecting community, I've recently written an article for Retro Collect. But alas, it seems that the gold mine has run dry; Car Boot sales are no longer the go to place for Retro Game deals.

http://www.retrocollect.com/Articles/is-the-golden-age-of-finding-retro-games-at-car-boot-sales-over.html

The Nintendo Golden Ticket

Growing up I would avidly read Total! magazine and of course Super Play. I remember a competition they ran once, when a reader was offered the opportunity to head to Japan and meet Nintendo employees. It the time I was very envious of the winner, a fellow called Gareth. 

Twenty years later, I managed to track him down to ask him about his experience. I have written about our conversation for Retro Collect. So if you're interested in knowing more head on over there to read all about his trip. 

Twenty years later, I'm still envious!

Thanks Gareth for answering a tweet from a total stranger who had essentially been stalking you for 6 months!

http://www.retrocollect.com/Articles/nintendo-hqs-golden-ticket-future-publishings-1994-winner-tells-of-his-trip-to-japan.html

Video - Building a Games Room in a Garage

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pz1wA0lQdcw

Its always been the dream to have a Games Room. I would watch YouTubers with envy as they gave tours of a designated space. With my games in boxes in the loft or under the bed, showing them off was never really an option. 

Things all changed when we got a new house though. I needed an Edit Suite at home for work and a garage conversion seemed the most sensible thing to do. As this could double as a place to play and display games suddenly my Games Room seemed like a very real possibility. It took some time to build, but I'm thrilled with how it turned out and feel so very lucky to have this space. 

If the demand is there I'll do a "Games Room Tour" in a later video, but this video shows how a dark dingy space become my personal heaven. 

Now I just need more time to spend in there!

Replay Events' Play Margate 2015

Retro Collecting works best when you're part of a community. Of course you can go it alone, buying all the games you wish at Car Boots and eBay, but like so many things in life it's a hobby best shared. 

Befriending fellow collectors means you can trade with them and when the end result is the acquisition of a game you both want, everyone is a winner. Having gaming buddies means having gaming discussions and there's always someone more knowledgable about a certain subject than you. They can tell you which games to buy, which in turn helps you avoid the dross and find the hidden gems. Sharing a gaming experience enriches it too and this isn't something limited to sharing a room with a mate playing a two player game.

Often talking about a game after you've played it adds another layer of enjoyment. Others will have seen bits you've missed, they may have noticed story nuances that past you by. 

Bob Hoskins may well have embarrassed himself once upon a time by becoming the filmic embodiment of Mario but he showed far more sense when he said "it's good to talk". As a gaming community 90% of our interactions may well be done in a virtual spade but every now and then we get the opportunity to meet up in person and it's a chance we should all grab with both hands. 

Recently I had the good fortune to be invited to 'Play Margate', a new gaming event held near to where I live in Kent. Considering it was being organised by Replay Events, the geniuses behind other 'Play' events I had high expectations. They didn't disappoint and if you wish to read about my experience I have written about the day for 'Retro Collect'. 

Fun was indeed had by all. 

Read all about it here.

Community Spirit

If retro gaming were a drug, not only would we all be addicts, we would all also be enablers. We fuel the fire of desire in one another, encouraging purchases, advising on which games should be sought out next. When you have a hobby that depends on the accumulation of things there's uncontrollable envy when you see what your peers have picked up, especially if it was for a bargain price. It's even been said that eBay "but it now" prices get raised when a certain retro game gets prominently featured in a magazine, on a website or even when a popular YouTuber talks enthusiastically about it. Retro collecting thrives because there seems to be an "I want what he has" mentality to it.

Boxed Pixels Vs Mega Bites : Donkey Kong Country

Boxed Pixels: MegaBites, my Sega-gaming nemesis, it's Christmas once more – a time of goodwill and cheer to all. This in mind, I thought I'd transform you into Kris of Super Play fame. How do you like your new look?

 

MegaBites: Kris? Super Play? Wasn't that a Super Nintendo magazine?

BP: It’s what people had instead of blogs twenty years ago. Though it was much more effort as you had to turn these things called “pages"

MB: Perfect, just perfect. Happy Christmas to me and a Merry Mode-7 holiday to you!

BP: MegaBites, a little Twitter bird tells me that this Christmas marks your 20th anniversary as a Mega Drive gamer. Any intention of getting your younger brother to mark the occasion as he did in 1993?

MB: You'll be happy to know that Christmas 2013 has every intention of a being vomit-free affair. That is, unless you plan on bringing the SNES over...

BP: You leave my majestic white box alone!

MB: You see, although the unfortunate events of that Christmas still haunt me to this day, I fondly remember Saturday 25th December 1993 for one thing – the day my obsession for all things Sega Mega Drive began. That entire day was an epic 16-bit odyssey, one that ultimately shaped my future as a gamer and all round Sega obsessive. How was the 90s Christmas experience from across 16-bit enemy lines?

BP: For me Christmas was the one time I got to see my games on the big-screen TV – if you indeed consider 22" to be 'big'. Donkey Kong Country looked fantastic on it. You've heard of Donkey Kong Country right?

MB: Donkey-who?

BP: You know, it's that game with pre-rendered graphics that would never have been possible on your beloved Mega Drive.

MB: I'm sorry, I must have been too busy eagerly anticipating the blast-processing prowess of Ristar. That's right blast-processing!

BP: Is that actually even a thing? Anyway, I'll let you in on a little secret MegaBites, Donkey Kong Country was the last thing I ever got from Father Christmas. For that reason alone, it holds a special place in my heart. Why don't you give it a go?

MB: MegaBites? Nintendo? Are you mad?... Only if you promise me one thing.

BP: Name it.

MB: I'll play your Donkey Kong if you play Ristar and write all about it on this blog. Deal?

BP: Deal.

MB: Where's the sick bags?

"Back in my day, we used to have real game play. We never had any of this fancy 3-D stuff! Oh no, we had to survive on what we had! And what little we did have, we were happy with! That's right, 4 shades of gray, in a 2x2 character block. Games never looked like this when I was a lad!" – Cranky Kong. Donkey Kong Country, 1994.

Deep in the quiet and isolated Warwickshire English countryside sits an old Victorian hall. A dilapidated horse-driven cart stands stationery in the back yard, whilst the hall's serene grounds are scatted by grazing cattle, wading ducks and apple groves. Contrary to first impression, this is not a scene from a Jane Austen novel, nor Charles Dickens. This is 1994, the headquarters of Rare and a rather inconspicuous setting for a software house that is shortly set to revolutionise the gaming industry forever... or for the next couple of years at least.

I'll always remember a particular episode of 90s video-game show Bad Influence, where in one feature, presenter Violet Berlin paid a visit Rare's HQ. Inside, she was presented with monitors that displayed pre-rendered wire-framed imagery, slick silicon graphics and a gargantuan piece of computer hardware adorned with a hand-written sticker that simply read 'The Death Star'.

My eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing as the feature showcased a meticulously animated primate and his baseball hat-wearing sidekick, as they leaped their way through lush jungle, crashed through caves and dived down into the murky depths. The graphics and level art were simply breathtaking. Surely this was the work of those 32-bit consoles I'd heard so much about, 64-bit at the very most? Wrong, this was a 16-bit affair. The game was Donkey Kong Country. The console? My arch-enemy, the Super Nintendo. As I sat, slack-jawed on the living room sofa, my Mega Drive was most likely upstairs, tying its RF cable into a noose in anticipation.

Back in 1994, I had firmly established myself within the Sega camp. My consoles had to be sleek and black, and my games had to be lightning-fast. The words mega, master, chaos and emerald were amongst the most important in my vocabulary. If it was 'produced by or under license from Sega Enterprises Ltd,' you simply couldn't go wrong (**cough** **cough** Shaq-Fu **cough** **cough**).

In hindsight, it's easy to cite my love for the Mega Drive on its blast processing prowess

and the thumping electro beats from its Yamaha YM2612 chip, but in 1994 I was just a kid. At that time, I didn't know my sound chips from my oven chips (although, I could probably hazard a guess at which tasted best). Back in those days there was one thing that mattered above all – the Sega Mega Drive was super fast and super cool. When you're 10 years old that's all that matters, right? Nevertheless, thanks to Miss Berlin, the Super Nintendo and Donkey Kong Country had grabbed my attention.

I'm not going to lie, but before Mr Hill kindly set me this challenge, my first-hand gameplay experience of Donkey Kong Country was bordering on little-to-non-existent. I'd seen gameplay and screenshots, I'd read all about the game, but the only time I can recall actually playing Donkey Kong Country was in a quick run-through at my local Virgin Megastore, in 1994 – that's it. Essentially, I was approaching the game with fresh eyes.

The premise of Donkey Kong Country was plain and simple. Our hero bursts out of his jungle den to discover that his banana hoard has been stolen by the evil croc King K. Rool. It's a total mystery what a carnivorous crocodile would want with a mountain of bananas. Surely it would only be a matter of days before the stash would rot into a sticky brown mush? The King clearly hadn't thought this through. Even so, you're Donkey Kong, you're a gorilla and you love bananas, so there can only be one course of action.

Accompanied by his tiny sidekick Diddy Kong, and with the assistance of numerous animal friends, the player guides the central characters across Donkey Kong Island, through jungles, caves, blizzards and oceans. As the game progresses, the player must defeat a host of banana-hoarding level bosses and pay visits to various members of the Kong family – my personal favourite being the ageing Cranky Kong and his gaming memories, which by today's standards are positively stone age, let alone retro!

"I say, you can't better the graphics, sounds and playability of a Game & Watch!"

Right, on with the gameplay... Upon the fading of the Rareware and Nintendo logos, I was greeted by Cranky Kong himself, who stood atop a red platform, seemingly harking back to Donkey Kong's arcade days. The sequence continues as Cranky stands with a walking stick in hand, turning the mechanism on an old gramophone, tapping his foot to an 8-bit chiptune. Suddenly, a huge CD subwoofer falls from the sky, knocking Cranky from his platform – it's Donkey Kong. As the scene takes us up into the treetops, the chiptune converts into a Sony SPC700 delight for the ears. The graphics aren't half bad either, as a 3D silicon graphic rendered Donkey Kong dances in the trees... until Cranky seeks his revenge with a TNT loaded barrel.

“It's taken 22 man years, 32 MEGS, 32,768 colours and one super computer to make him look this gruesome.” – GamesMaster magazine, October 1994.

What struck me the most about Donkey Kong Country wasn't the graphics, nor the CD-ROM-esque soundtrack (though both elements are truly stunning). What stood out for me were the dynamics of the gameplay.

I realise it's the soft option, but as a kid, Sonic 2 was my gaming benchmark. It was the very first game I owned on the Mega Drive and was the standard to which all of my early platforming exploits were graded upon, and still are for that matter. The key components to consider when it comes to the early Sonic series' gameplay are two-fold – speed and momentum. In this regard, Donkey Kong Country takes a much more subtle approach.

One of my enduring memories of Donkey Kong Country was the close attention I had to pay to the patterns of my enemy's path, choosing the exact moment to pounce. It was almost a fine-art as I stalked my prey, waiting for them to move to the precise area that would allow me to leap, bounce off their carcass and make it onto a platform that would otherwise have been that little bit too difficult to reach. It was a similar scenario in the game's Snow Barrel Blast level, which required near millimetre precision and a hawk-like focus on the enemy's flight paths – a feat that was made all the more difficult by the onslaught of a 14-layer blizzard. Although the snow storm showed no sign of easing, this was a multi-paralax effect that would almost certainly send my Mega Drive into meltdown!

I have to say that I truly enjoyed my time with Donkey Kong Country. My particular highlights being the ice-themed levels and the sporadic aquatic escapades – highly unusual for me as any level that incorporates water or ice is a big no, no in my book.

Before we move on, I'd just like to point out one more thing – the Donkey Kong Country opening theme and Ice Cave Chant have to be two of the greatest tunes ever committed to cartridge....... On the Super Nintendo. Right, let's tie this up... SWIFTLY!

I would like to conclude where Donkey Kong Country begins – with Cranky Kong. In this ageing simian-protagonist, we see a character completely at odds with progress – a figure reluctant to accept the passing of time and the advancement of technology. 1994 was a year when we were all caught up in a whirlwind of 3D, 32-bit promise, one that ultimately changed the face of the games industry as we knew it. Although Donkey Kong Country played a role realising that turning point, it also sought to bridge the gap between old and new, clinging on to its old-school arcade heritage, reminding us all that, although progress is inevitable, every once in a while it doesn't hurt to look back. For that reason alone, Donkey Kong Country will stand pride of place as one of my Wii Virtual Console downloads of choice. What? You didn't think I'd resort to the Super Nintendo for this, did you?

For all things, all memories, all Sega Mega Drive, read more on the MegaBites Blog: megabitesblog.wordpress.com.

‘Kris and Tell’ artwork used with kind permission of the original Super Play artist Wil Overton. http://www.supermonsterclub.com/

A Sensible Evening

Don’t meet your heroes, isn’t that what they say? This may well be the case if you have glorified a football star and are disappointed by his slowness of wit, or you idolise an actress and are shocked by her self-centred ways. But what if you spent your childhood reading about game designers, buying Amiga Power and Super Play rather than Smash hits and Shoot magazines?  What would it be like to meet the folk, who are not always fame hungry, or spot light seeking?

Despite what many presume is the case with my job, I tend not to bump into celebrities often. Those that I have met have been pleasant of course, but when you are meeting them for work it all feels different and somehow inappropriate to ask for an autograph. In a work environment I’ve never got star struck, I just focus on my work. I was star stuck last night however, by a man who to me is every bit a legend. It’s seven in the evening and I’m strolling into the video game themed ‘Loading Bar’ in central London. I’m gazing around the room, hoping to meet a friend from Twitter, a hard thing to do when you only know each other by user names and don’t know what each other looks like. But cutting through my gaze strolls a man I do instantly recognise. There’s a confidence about him, he has a rock star swagger and a pony tail. He is Jon “Jops” Hare, he is Sensible Software. I’m caught off guard and any ounce of coolness I have drains from me in an instant. “Evening” he says as he casually pushes past, I mouth something but no words come out. In this situation I am not a work colleague, or someone who makes the celebrity look good – I am obviously a star stuck fan. You would think I’d have had a witty retort prepared for this very moment; I am after all in this bar to meet this very man.  

The occasion is the launch party for a book that I backed on Kickstarter: The History of Sensible Software. I doubt anyone reading a blog about boxed SNES Games needs an explanation as to who Sensible Software are, after-all in the nineties they were at the top of their game making classics like Sensible Soccer, Mega Lo Mania and the fantastic Cannon Fodder. Sadly though, for a company at their peak the onset of 3D graphic lead to their demise and now all these years later Sensible Software have all drifted apart. When I saw that Darren and the team at ROM were making a book that documented not just the games they made but also the back stories behind their creation I was on board straight away. Though I regularly read magazine such as Retro Gamer, I find the few pages they offer on a subject to be far to fleeting. This was to be a book that went into meticulous detail about a company that I adored growing up. In an industry that sometimes feels so guarded and restrained this honesty is refreshing, the curtain lifted on a world of game creation that remains mysterious and exciting to me. The party that I was strolling about in too seemed unconventional and open. I have tried to meet industry figures in the past of course. The Eurogamer Expo allowed me to hear Peter Molyneux chat about cubes, and Brian Horton talk about Lara Croft’s lack of hot pants.I have recounted my failed attempt to meet Hideo Kojima , but all of these events were one sided occasions where someone spoke and I listened. In this bar, on this Wednesday night I was literally rubbing shoulders with not just the charismatic Sensible Software figure head, but also Stoo Cambridge the graphic designer who perfected the classic Sensi-Aesthetic and Chris Chapman the unsung hero behind the programming of Sensible Soccer.

Considering I was a wide eyed, over-eager fellow clutching Snes boxes (and a Sharpie pen for them to sign them with) they offered more warmth and time than I ever expected.  Minutes were lost talking about the virtues of eyes on a nine pixel high character, or how you don’t need to be a football fanatic to enjoy a Soccer game. Each Sensible member was friendly, gracious and intelligent – perhaps just keen to talk about their creations with people who clearly adored them.

The book we are here to celebrate is a must buy. Not just for anyone who liked Sensible Software in the nineties, but also for anyone with an interest in game creation in general. The publishers ROM and the author Gary Penn (a truly compelling guy to chat to) have done an incredible job, getting frank honest stories and rare unseen production images. A weighty tome filled with anecdotes and character, recalling a time when 2D sprites reign supreme and British wit still had a place in what is now a Japanese and American dominated industry. As you flick through the interview filled pages its clear how much affection and pride there is for the games. Each chapter reveals secrets and thought processes that have given me an even greater thirst to return to certain games that were such a key part of my childhood. I wonder if the people I’m chatting to will ever realise the effect they had on young lives, the memories they helped to create. Sensible Soccer was one of the few games my Dad wanted to try for example, and many nights were sat beside my brother playing WizKid trying to make sense of the abstract madness. These are special moments for me. Special moments that I can only now recall, thanks to the efforts of the men in this room. It’s fantastic that their stories of game creation are committed to paper, but the products they made are themselves the prompt for many other stories – unique to an individual but cherished just as much.  

In the past I’ve mentioned how I often dilute my affection for video games when talking to friends, in fear of judgement or worse still inspiring some sort of pity or boredom. At events like this, there really is no need and it’s why I enjoy the occasion so much. Some may laugh when I tell them I’m spending a rare evening away from my family in the company of strangers from Twitter and people who made a game I liked half a lifetime ago, but for me it’s the perfect evening. A chance to make new friends and meet childhood heroes. A chance to recount happy memories and create new ones.

Some maybe horrified that my formally mint pristine copies of Cannon Fodder and Sensible Soccer now have names scrawled all over them, but for me the value is much greater. Now these boxes not only present a chance to playing two incredible games, but looking at them will always remind me of a time I managed not to be cool when face to face with a personal legend.

Trophy Addiction

So I love a shiny virtual cup. That moment when you achieve something in your favourite game and the familiar yet to seldom heard ding celebrates your achievement for all in the room to hear.  This moment of victory is then logged, added to your list of greatest game playing moments and the admiration from your peers fills you with pride and joy at your accomplishment.  In fact I’d even go so far as to say I pity those who don’t play games. They will never know that moment of short sweet elation. They will never know what it feels like to spend an hour doing the same tiny segment of game again and again till you perfected it in the manner that some designer (whom you will never meet to praise your skills) deemed to be worthy of merit. I think it’s safe to say I’m addicted to that accolade!

What once started as a novel prompt to explore the less trodden path in a game has become the sole reason I play it. While a platinum trophy used to say “I liked this game so much I played till there was nothing more to take from it” now it is the goal I have to achieve before my conscience allows me to get a new game- If I don’t get one I’ve not got true value from a game. This I know is nonsense!

This obsession doesn’t stop there. I’ve even started to Google “easiest platinum trophies” so I know what to get should I ever need to bolster my score. I shy away from playing on my DS as it would be wasting valuable time I could spend on a Vita trying to get a bronze trophy in Lumines from playing it for 24 hours. This I know is nonsense!

The silly thing is the only people these trophies mean anything to is you - the sort of person who reads a blog about boxed SNES games. I don’t get to work and high five a colleague screaming “get me! I got a silver virtual cup for finding all the hidden items in LBP”. So why am I putting all this effort in for you especially when I realised that not once have I looked through any of your trophy lists and gone, wow that’s a lot of trophies for Bioshock, I should send him a message congratulating him. The most I have ever done is looked at your global score and smiled if my score was higher. Thats it – that second of smug satisfaction is what the hundreds of hours of frustration and gamer rage was for?! Really that’s how I choose to spend my free time?! When will the Nonsense end?

So, I call on you the reader of this blog to stage an intervention (Don’t worry your requirements are nil it’s a metaphorical thing). The line in the sand is drawn, I am signing up for Trophy Hoarders Anonymous. Gone will be the hours of toil to get a virtual accolade, and instead the hours will be spent exploring new game experiences, Ideally on a fresh Mint condition SNES game that has dropped through the letter box.  

Now I’m not saying I won’t ever get a Platinum again. On my favourite games I still think this will be a fun thing to strive for – Tomb Raider will be the next and not far away at 85%.  But I’m hoping I can just stop playing a game that I’m not enjoying, even though it means a trophy score of 8% for it.

As after all let’s face it, do you guys ever care that I have games with low trophy scores? Of course you don’t you’re too busy trying to get your X Box Achievements to even be looking!